Winter Wonders
by RussianWolf7
Summary: Yes, I know the title is about as trite as you can get, but oh well. Clarice is told that Lecter is close by and that she has been reassigned to the case. She gets stuck in tree in the middle of a blizzard... Rated for occasional swearing in chapter three
1. Chapter One

Disclaimer: I do not own Hannibal, Clarice, Crawford or anybody else I might mention.  
  
A/N: This was going to be a songfic for Fallen, but it started to take on its own thingy... So, here it is.  
  
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Clarice was eating dinner when the phone rang.  
  
"Special Agent Clarice Starling. Who is this?" she answered the was she always did.  
  
"It's Crawford. We have a lead on Lecter and we want you to follow it." Clarice choked on the piece of carrot she had been eating.  
  
"Doctor Lecter?" she stammered.  
  
"Yes. Doctor Hannibal Lecter, M.D.," Crawford said as if he was talking to a very young child. "Do I need to spell if for you?"  
  
"Where is he?" Clarice said, trying to focus on her job as opposed to the effects the prospect of seeing the doctor had on her.  
  
"Well, actually, we think he's close by. As in when you go out, watch your back. Someone told us that he was seen around your house. Be careful, Clarice," Crawford said, the last part with something that sounded suspiciously like concern.  
  
"I always am. I'll get right on it, sir," Clarice said and hung up. Doctor Lecter? By her house? It didn't seem possible. Well, she though as she was getting her coat on, it didn't matter what it seemed like. She would do what she was told, regardless of how stupid she thought it was.  
  
Clarice pulled on her gloves, hat and scarf and was about to open the door when she realized that she would need a flashlight. Even though it was only six thirty, it got very dark in the winter, and seeing as December was the middle of winter, she would need a flashlight. She grabbed her flashlight and pondered about getting her gun. Better safe than sorry, she thought and grabbed it. As soon as she did, she wondered what the hell she had just been thinking. Of course she would need her gun! She shook her head, hoping that if she did find Lecter, she would have more sense.  
  
As soon as Clarice stepped outside, she wondered if it might not be better to just wait. It was a full fledged blizzard, definately whiteout conditions. But then again, this was her own neighbourhood. She could find her way back, even if she did manage to get lost. She closed and locked the door and scanned her yard looking for footprints. She didn't see any, but the storm would have blown any away within a space of about two minutes. She trudged around to her backyard and gave it the same quick scan. She didn't see anything except for a few broken branches. She figured the wind must've blown them down, but decided to go look anyways.  
  
Clarice pushed her way towards the large oak tree and picked up one of the branches. It passed her examination, and she threw it aside. The next two also passed. The third had a small piece of dark blue cloth snagged to one of the nubs. Clarice quickly looked up as if expecting to see Lecter sitting in her tree. She didn't, but she could only see a few feet up. She decided it was suicide to try and climb her tree in this weather, but she started to anyways, not knowing what she would do if she met Lecter.  
  
The tree was immensely slippery, but the four or so feet of snow should take most of the damage if Clarice were to fall. As she got higher and higher, the wind whipped her around even more. About three-quarters of the way up there was still no sign of Lecter. She squinted up into the swirling snow, but didn't see anything resembling a human. She looked down, ready to begin descending down the huge tree. She quickly snapped her eyes shut. Yes, if she fell the snow might help cushion her, but the branches between her and the ground wouldn't. They were coated in about three inches of ice, and wouldn't support her enough to get her down. Clarice didn't know how she had made it up, but she wouldn't make it down again if she tried. She figured that she had been climbing slower than she had thought and that since the storm was so bad, the ice was forming at an unbelievable pace. Instead, she rested her head on the trunk of the tree and hoped the blizzard would pass soon.  
  
Fifteen minutes later, the storm hadn't lessened. If anything, it had gotten stronger. Clarice sat huddled on her branch shivering. The fact that she, Special Agent Clarice Starling was stuck in a tree had a certain amount of humour to it, but not enough to keep her in good spirits. Every time she looked down, everything started spinning and she was afraid that if she didn't look elsewhere she would either fall of throw up, neither of which would help her situation.  
  
A half hour later, Clarice decided that she would brave climbing down the tree. She was so cold and she was afraid that if she didn't get warmed up son she would get hypothermia and die, curled up in the tree in her very own backyard. So, without looking down, she lowered herself onto the next branch. After safely making it down the first three branches, she began to gain confidence. She went a faster, eager to get home. Unfortunately, she went to fast and slipped, falling the rest of the way down. Clarice thought she was screaming for help, but she couldn't be sure that she wasn't just thinking it. The wind was howling so loud that she honestly couldn't tell. More importantly, this meant that it didn't matter whether she was screaming or not, as no one would hear her. About halfway down, she hit her head on a large branch and was knocked unconscious and therefore not noticing when large arms caught her at the bottom of her tree. 


	2. Chapter Two

Disclaimer: As usual, I own nothing. *sneaks out with Hannibal stuffed in her backpack*  
  
A/N: PLEASE!!! READ AND ESPECIALLY REVIEW!!!  
  
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"Ooff!" Hannibal said as he caught Clarice, falling back into the snow. In truth, he hadn't caught her. He had been about to climb back into the tree when she had fallen on him.  
  
Hannibal tried to get up, but whenever he pushed up, he only sunk more into the snow. Determined not to get buried in snow, he rolled Clarice off of him and sat up, sinking down another few inches. Eventually he was standing and he looked at Clarice. He gasped. She was completely covered in cuts, was bleeding from numerous places and had an especially bad cut on her head that was already starting to get a rather large lump. She was also rather blue. He bent over and picked her up, intent on bringing her back into her house when he realized he didn't have a key. While he was good at picking locks, he didn't have his usual equipment with him and he knew that he had to get Clarice inside quickly.  
  
Hannibal climbed up onto Clarice's porch and set her down on what looked like a table. He searched his pockets and eventually came up with a bobby pin. Why he had a bobby pin in the pocket of his winter coat he didn't know, but was very thankful for it being there. He made quick work of the lock and brought Clarice inside. He set her gently down on the couch and quickly closed and locked the door.  
  
Hannibal carried Clarice into her bedroom and set her on the bed, wondering what to do. Her clothes were sopping so he decided to change her into something more comfortable. He felt quite awkward undressing her, but managed to get the task done quickly. He went over to what appeared to be a dresser and opened the top drawer. After sifting through many pairs of underwear and socks that he would have much preferred not to, he found what looked like a warm sleep shirt. He picked it up and slipped in over Clarice's head. He the tucked her into her bed and left, closing the door softly behind him.  
  
Hannibal walked down the hall and down the stairs. Just then the lights flickered and went out. However he kept on walking and soon banged into what appeared to be a solid wall. Hannibal cursed and rubbed his head. He felt around for a bit and found a knob. He opened it and was able barley to see that he was in her kitchen. Hannibal began opening the drawers systematically looking for candles. Eventually, he found a package of long candles and a larger package of shorter ones. In a divided off section of the drawer he found matches. In another section were candle holders. He lit one of the larger ones and looked again at the smaller ones, pondering. He decided, and took the smaller ones and the box of matches.  
  
Hannibal went upstairs and into Clarice's room. He lit one of the larger candles and put it on the bedside table. Around it he put the smaller ones. Next to all of those, he put the bags of candles. He opened the drawer of the table, meaning to put the box of matches in it. Instead, he stopped. Hannibal blinked and looked again. He gasped at what he saw, put the matches in the drawer and quickly shut it, pretending it wasn't there. It was just too good to be true. He took his candle and walked quickly out of her room and towards the kitchen. He scanned the counter and saw her coffee machine. He tried to make some, but remembered that the power was out. He cursed yet again and got a glass of water, sitting down at the table, ignoring the feeling in his stomach and the chills racing up his spine. Instead, he thought about what he was going to do if Clarice was seriously ill. He knew he couldn't call a doctor because he was, after all, on the top ten wanted list. Hannibal decided that he would cross that bridge when he came to it, and tried to clear his mind. It didn't really work, but when his water was finished, he was very tired. He went into Clarice's living room and fell into a deep sleep.  
  
Hannibal woke up the next morning and went to go check on Clarice. She was still sleeping and was deathly pale. Or, she looked like she was sleeping. He reached up to her neck and sighed when he felt a pulse. He walked out into her hall and began opening doors. In the process of looking for her closet, he found a bathroom, a guest room, which he could use tonight if he needed to, a study and finally her closet. He took all of the blankets he could find and went back to Clarice, covering her further. She snuggled beneath them, seeming to know that they were there even if she was asleep. He smiled and ran his finger along her cheek. He then left, again closing the door.  
  
Hannibal went into the guest room and decided that he could spend the rest of the day in here. It was right next to Clarice's room so if she woke up he would here her. He went to the window and looked outside. Even though it was ten in the morning, it was practically pitch black. The storm was amazingly strong, and showed no signs of letting off any time soon. Hannibal sighed. At least no one would be calling. Of course, at that exact moment, he could distinctly hear the phone ringing. He knew it had to be a cell phone and began searching for it. He went into Clarice's room and found it immediately on her dresser. He picked it up and hit the go button. He didn't say anything.  
  
"Agent Starling? It's Crawford. Don't worry about Lecter; we just heard that he was spotted in France." Hannibal smiled. So that's what she was doing. Looking for him.  
  
"Starling? Can you hear me?" Crawford said. Hannibal hung up, knowing that it could be blamed on the storm. He put the cell phone back on the dresser and went downstairs to get some breakfast. Once he had made his way to the kitchen, he opened the refrigerator door, hoping that nothing had spoiled overnight. He found some bread and considered toast. He immediately mentally smacked himself on the forehead, knowing that the toaster wouldn't be working because the power was out. He put the bread back and decided that anything in the refrigerator would need to be heated. Hannibal began to search her cupboards, hoping to find some cereal. In the first one he opened, he was assaulted by paper towels. Hannibal jumped back, wondering why anyone would stuff paper towels into a cupboard. In the next on he opened, he found a large array of cereals. He selected a box of Cheerio's. Hannibal put them down on the table and began looking for a bowl. He found one rather quickly and poured some into the bowl. He then went back to where the cereal cupboard was and got assaulted yet again by paper towels. He cursed, shoved them back in and opened the cupboard next to the paper towel one and put the Cheerio's back. Hannibal went to the refrigerator to get milk, then decided against it. The milk was sure to be spoiled and he didn't want to deal with it right now. Hannibal sat down and reached for his cheerio's. They weren't where he had remembered putting them. He began slowly sweeping his hands along the table. He promptly knocked the bowl over and heard cheerio's being scattered all over the floor. Hannibal cursed and decided that maybe he would just have a slice of bread for breakfast. He went to the refrigerator and got the bread without any further incident. Hannibal took two slices, put the bread back and sat down at the table. He ate them quickly and pondered what to do next. His course of action was quickly decided for him when he heard and odd sound coming from upstairs.  
  
Hannibal ran up the stairs into Clarice's room. He found her sitting up in bed, coughing. When Clarice saw him she quickly opened the drawer at her table and stared at its contents. She stopped coughing. She looked back at Hannibal and then at the drawer. She took her gun out and pointed it shakily at him.  
  
"What do you want?" Clarice asked, her voice coming out as a barely audible squeak.  
  
"Clarice, I just saved your life. I would expect you to be thanking me. Now put the gun back where it belongs." Clarice did as she was told. "I suggest you lie down. I wouldn't want you to get any sicker that you already are," Hannibal said and went over next to her. Clarice cuddled back under the blankets. Hannibal felt her forehead. "You're burning. Do you have any Tylenol?" Clarice nodded.  
  
"In the medicine cabinet of the bathroom." Hannibal went and quickly found it. He read the label. It said that she should take two. He shook out three of the white tablets and went back to Clarice.  
  
"Take these," he said and handed her the medicine. She eyed him warily. "I'm not going to poison you. If you're ever going to get better, I suggest you take them." Clarice sniffed them and then swallowed them.  
  
"What do you want, Doctor Lecter?" Clarice said again.  
  
"You shouldn't be talking. I'm here because I want to be," Hannibal said. "By the way, if you go into the kitchen, be careful. I spilt some cheerio's this morning and I haven't gotten around to cleaning it up yet. But you should be resting."  
  
"How long has the power been out? It's freezing," Clarice asked.  
  
"All night," Hannibal answered, looking concerned. "You're under all of your blankets. Do you want something...nevermind. The power's out; I can't make you anything warm. Is there anything I can do for you?" Clarice bit her lip in indecision. "What? Just tell me, Clarice."  
  
"Nothing. I'm going to go back to sleep now," she said and rolled over.  
  
"Of course. Good bye," Hannibal said and went back to the guest room. He saw a large bookcase and went over to it hoping to find something to do. Most of the books were reference ones, but a few were Stephen King. He took out "The Shining" and began to read.  
  
An hour later he decided to go check on Clarice. When he saw her he knew that he needed to do something and do it quickly. She was, if possible, paler than before and the cuts on her face stood vividly out as if she had red streaks of paint on her face. Her lips were a very light shade of blue and her teeth were chattering. Her whole body was shaking for that matter. Hannibal did the only thing he could think of; he got into bed next to her and put his arm around her. As soon as he did, she stopped shaking. He smiled, but then stopped. If she was still this sick tomorrow morning, he would have to get her to a doctor somehow. But right now, what Clarice needed most was to rest. That's not such a bad idea, Hannibal thought as his eyelids started to droop. He soon fell asleep with Clarice in his arms. 


	3. Chapter Three

Disclaimer: I do not own anyone. *takes Hannibal carefully out of her backpack behind the couch*  
  
A/N: You need to re-read chapter two for this to make sense, if you haven't already.  
  
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"What the fuck are you doing in my bed?" Hannibal's eyes snapped open. A very angry Clarice and a gun pointed directly at his head were the first things he saw. It took a few seconds for him to remember what had happened.  
  
"Saving your life. Clarice, please, if you don't want to put the gun away, please point it somewhere else," Hannibal said, pushing the gun away. Clarice put it back where she it had been before.  
  
"And how the fuck are you saving my life?" Clarice spat. Hannibal had to smile. She was definately getting better.  
  
"Clarice, stop swearing. It's rude. And I was helping you because you looked as if you didn't get warmer sometime soon you would die," Hannibal answered. Clarice took a deep breath.  
  
"You could've gotten some more blankets."  
  
"You're already under all of the one's you own. The only other ones in the house were the ones in the guest room, but I was using those. Besides, you did stop shaking when I held you."  
  
"Well, it did help. I mean, it's not like you're a block of ice. You do have body heat, just like everyone else," Clarice said.  
  
"I'm assuming you're feeling better?" Hannibal asked, changing the subject.  
  
"Yes. I think most of it was just being so cold," Clarice answered.  
  
"That's what I thought... hoped. If you had been seriously ill, you would've had to go see a doctor which would prove quite difficult, me being who I am," he said.  
  
"True. Do I have anything to eat that hasn't gone bad or been spilled all over the floor yet?" Clarice asked.  
  
"I could make you a sandwich." Clarice nodded. "Peanut butter and jelly?" Clarice nodded again. Hannibal turned to leave. He was about to close the door when he heard Clarice say something. "I'm sorry, I didn't hear you. What did you say?"  
  
"Thanks." Hannibal smiled and left, going downstairs to make the sandwich. He returned in a few minutes, the sandwich in one hand and a glass of water in the other.  
  
"Thank you," Clarice said and took the food. She set the water down on the table and began to slowly eat the sandwich.  
  
"Would you like me to stay or leave?" Hannibal asked.  
  
"Stay. I want to ask you something," Clarice said as soon as she had finished her mouthful.  
  
"And what would that be?" Hannibal responded.  
  
"When you put the matches in the drawer, did you see the picture?" Clarice asked turning a shade redder than she normally was. So did Hannibal.  
  
"Yes," he said hesitantly.  
  
"What was your initial reaction?" Clarice asked, turning away. Hannibal wondered what to say. He could tell her the truth. Or he could not. Why not, he thought. I'll only be here for a few more days at the most.  
  
"I was shocked. That must have been the last thing I expected to see there. I was also, however pleased. For whatever reason it's there," Hannibal stopped. "What?" he asked Clarice. She was staring at him like he was a complete and total idiot.  
  
"You honestly don't know why it's there?" Clarice asked, amazed.  
  
"Well, no, I have a guess. An educated guess. I guess that I certainly hope isn't wrong," he answered, looking at his feet.  
  
"And what might that guess be?" Clarice asked.  
  
"Well, it would be incredibly arrogant of me to say it, so why don't you just tell me," Hannibal said. Clarice snorted.  
  
"You? Caring about arrogance? This has to be a first. But, I think I will help you out this once. Quid pro quo. You did, after all save my life."  
  
"Yes, you saved mine back at Mason's."  
  
"You also saved mine there too. Look, do you want me to tell you or not?" Clarice said, slightly miffed.  
  
"Yes," Hannibal mumbled, still looking at his feet. Of the part of his face that Clarice could see, he was incredibly red.  
  
"It's there," she paused. "It's there because... because... Oh, god. This is ridiculous. It's there because I love you." Hannibal looked at her.  
  
"You can't be serious."  
  
"Why else would it be there?" Clarice asked. "What did you think?"  
  
"Well, actually, that is what I thought. Hearing it out loud is somewhat different from thinking it," Hannibal answered quietly.  
  
"I know. Knowing that, what is your reaction?" Clarice asked, staring at him. Hannibal shifted slightly so he was looking directly into Clarice's eyes, the desire evident in his maroon eyes.  
  
"I love you too," he said and kissed her. Despite that Clarice was almost positive that he was in love with her, she couldn't help but be surprised. But then when his tongue entered her mouth, she moaned into him and returned the kiss with equal passion. In a few minutes, they broke apart, staring into each others eyes.  
  
"What are we supposed to do now?" Clarice asked.  
  
"Wait for you to get better. I'll be in the guest room if you need me," Hannibal said and walked out, leaving Clarice sitting in bed wondering why he had left so suddenly. Not to mention, his tone of voice was polite, but the air about him was rude. Hannibal was never rude.  
  
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Review! Please review! 


	4. Chapter Four

Disclaimer: I own nothing.  
  
A/N: Much thanks to SlowChemial77 for help with ideas! You go girl!  
  
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Clarice fell asleep a few minutes after he left and woke up about six hours later, feeling horrible. She started coughing and was very dismayed to hear that she was hacking quite badly. A few seconds later Hannibal appeared in the door.  
  
"Are you ok, Clarice?" he asked, the worry evident in his voice.  
  
"What does it look like?" Clarice said between coughs. Her voice came out as a barely audible croak, but Hannibal understood her anyways and left, returning a few minutes later with some medicine and a glass of water.  
  
"Here," he said and handed them to her. Clarice took them and swallowed them as soon as she could and then taking a huge sip of water. "If you're nauseous, you shouldn't drink water that quickly."  
  
"I know. I was thirsty," Clarice croaked.  
  
"Don't talk. It will only make your throat worse," Hannibal said. Clarice eyed him suspiciously.  
  
"There's another reason why you don't want me to talk, isn't there?"  
  
"No, of course not." His tone wasn't at all convincing and the look on his face was vacant, as if he wasn't there.  
  
"Doctor Lecter?" She asked, concerned. He was never like this with her. He didn't give any sign of hearing her. "Doctor Lecter? Are you alright? Doctor Lecter . . ."  
  
Hannibal's footsteps echoed down the long halls of his memory palace. He had been walking, but now he was running, looking desperately for something he knew that he wouldn't find here.  
  
"Hannibal! Hannibal!" Mischa's little voice also echoed, giving it an eerie effect that sent shivers along Hannibal's spine. "Hannibal! I'm in here!" Hannibal began opening doors until he found the right one.  
  
"Hello, Mischa," he said. Even though he was only six, his voice had the same metallic sound to it, but not edged with arrogance and all the other qualities it now had.  
  
"Hannibal! What took you so long?" she asked him, looking at him out of her dark maroon eyes, much like his. They should have been innocent. She was, after all, much younger than him, but instead they held sorrow, hurt and anger beyond the capacity of anyone her age. The bleeding cut on her neck didn't help anything.  
  
"I'm sorry," Hannibal answered. He knew what this conversation was going to turn into. It happened every time.  
  
"You came too late. They came. You didn't save me," she said. Her eyes widened, blaming him.  
  
"I'm so sorry, Mischa. But I need your help now," he said. His stare bore into hers and Hannibal realized that this was one of the very rare occasions where information was being withheld from him. He would have to fight for it, as opposed to the other way around.  
  
"I can't help you with Clarice, Hannibal. You know that."  
  
"Please, Mischa. You know the answer."  
  
"But I can't tell you. That would be breaking the rules." Her voice was now reproachful.  
  
"Just this once, please. It's so important to me. I'm going to loose her unless you tell me how not to."  
  
"I can't," she whined. "I want to, but I can't."  
  
"What if I asked you questions and you answered them. Clues," he was using all of tricks that he knew from being a doctor. Technically, that was breaking the rules as well; he wasn't supposed to have an advantage over Mischa, but he couldn't help it. He needed her help, and this was the only way he knew how to get it.  
  
"I can't." Hannibal looked at her, his eyes full of sadness threatening to fall over in unshed tears. The look on her face didn't soften, but her eyes lost some of their hardness.  
  
"Please," he whispered. Mischa broke down. She didn't cry, but her face contorted into a look of someone crying.  
  
"Hannibal, if I do, you won't be able to come back. I want to. I want to so much!" She said, her voice raising until she was yelling. "It's not fair! You shouldn't be putting this much pressure on me! I'm your little sister!"  
  
"I know. I'm sorry. I'll go now," Hannibal turned and left the room, not looking back because he knew if he did he wouldn't be able to leave.  
  
"Do for her what you didn't do for me!" Mischa yelled after him. At that, Hannibal couldn't help but turn around. Mischa was at the door, unable to leave the room. "Don't let her be taken away!" Mischa was now crying for real, tears coursing down her face. "You have to go now!" She turned around and went back into the room. Hannibal ran back to the room and tried to get through, but couldn't.  
  
"Mischa!" Hannibal yelled through the invisible barrier. She mouthed the words I'm sorry at him and turned away sadly. "MISCHA!" She turned around once more. She mouthed something else at him. "What?" Get out of here! she said silently to him. "No! I won't leave you again!" GO! Hannibal heard a cracking sound and looked up. The ceiling had deep cracks in it. As he stared up in horror, little pieces started to fall down. He turned back to Mischa.  
  
"Leave before it's too late!" This time he could hear her, the genuine fear in her voice. "It's all coming down and you have to get out!"  
  
"You'll die!"  
  
"I'm already dead, now get out of here!"  
  
"I can't leave you, not again."  
  
"You have to!" Mischa looked up suddenly. A large piece of the ceiling fell on her, crushing her.  
  
"MISCHA!" Hannibal stared at her. He didn't know what to do. He ran at the door again and this time got through. He rushed to her side.  
  
"G-g-g-go away . . ." she stuttered. Her head fell forward onto the floor and lay there, still.  
  
"No. Not again." Hannibal picked the piece of ceiling off her and picked her up, intent on getting her out of here. But as soon as he reached the door, re realized that he couldn't leave with her. The palace was coming down faster now, and if he didn't leave very soon, he would be trapped. He sat down, torn between the two people he loved most, the two he had only ever loved. He knew that Mischa was dead, and he would be soon, but he couldn't leave her. Hannibal looked down at her again and brushed her hair out of here face. "I love you, Mischa." He gently placed her beside him and got up. He now walked through the door and looked around. Parts of the palace lay everywhere and more were coming every second. He narrowly dodged one and started running towards the exit.  
  
He began to jog quickly down the hall, avoiding the chunks on the floor and dodging the ones that were coming down on him. Hannibal could hear his memories screaming to be let out from their various rooms before they died but he didn't stop. Only one caught his attention.  
  
"Doctor Lecter! Doctor Lecter! Help me!" a voice called to him from his right. He stopped running and turned to look at it. A much younger version of Clarice stood trapped in a room, begin to be let out. Her short hair fell into her face and she looked like they way she did when he had first met her and she was about to leave, but the other prisoners had started screaming. That was when he had told her about Mofet.  
  
"Oh, Clarice. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," he said and began to run once more, her cries still echoing in his head long after he had gotten far enough away that he shouldn't be able to hear her. He could see the exit now and began to sprint towards it. He heard a huge booming noise and looked up. Directly before the door a large chunk of ceiling was about to fall. He started running faster, determined to beat it. He was thirty yards away, twenty, ten, five when the ceiling started to fall.  
  
"NO!!!!!" Hannibal yelled and threw himself the last three yards.  
  
"Doctor Lecter! Doctor Lecter!" Clarice was shaking him, her face deathly pale and her forehead was creased with worry.  
  
"Wha . . .?" Hannibal said, looking around.  
  
"Doctor Lecter! You're alright!" Clarice smiled a little, clearly extremely relieved.  
  
"What just happened?" he asked, bewildered. He remembered nothing of the past five minutes.  
  
"I'm not sure. You went into a trance or something," she said, the lines of worry coming back. It all came back to him in a rush and he collapsed onto her bed. He put his head into his hands and cried for the first time since he could remember. He felt Clarice sit down next to him and put and arm around him, but he shook it away, turning to face the wall. She put her hand on his back and this time he didn't do anything about it. He sobbed for what was probably only about five minutes but felt like an eternity for both of them. Hannibal slowly recovered himself and turned to face Clarice. His eyes were red and puffy from crying and he looked like a mess.  
  
"I'm sorry, Clarice. My sister died again." Hannibal could feel the tears building up behind his eyes again, but he refused to let them fall. "Everyone did. Everyone who I've ever cared about died. Every memory I've ever had, very feeling I've ever experienced, it all died." A single tear slid down his cheek but he didn't bother to wipe it away. Clarice put her arms around him and held him like a mother would do with a child who was upset.  
  
"It's ok. I'm still here. I always will be," she said in a soothing voice, stroking his back.  
  
"But you won't be!" Hannibal said pulling away from her. "It doesn't matter that we're in love! It's completely impossible for us to be together!"  
  
"No it isn't. It's the love that will make it work," Clarice said. Hannibal shook his head.  
  
"I shouldn't have come here," he said.  
  
"If this is the attitude you're going to have then no you shouldn'tv'e," Clarice said, her tone hardening. "If you aren't going to make this work, then you shouldn't have gotten my hopes up. I'm tired. I'm going to go to bed now. Please get up," Clarice said, climbing into bed and pushing him off. "And if you see me shivering, don't bother warming me up. You apparently don't have a problem with breaking my heart so you should care much if I die."  
  
"Clarice, of course I care. And I never meant to break your heart," Hannibal said and put a hand on her shoulder. It wasn't the right this to do. She whipped around angrily, her eyes shooting daggers at him.  
  
"Don't you dare touch me again," Clarice hissed and turned back around, hitting Hannibal in the face with her long ponytail. She started snoring, obviously fake, but they both knew what it meant.  
  
"Very well. Good night," Hannibal said quietly and left. 


	5. Chapter Five

Disclaimer: I own nothing. Sorry to disappoint you and all, but I'm not Thomas Harris or any movie person or anything.  
  
A/N: Not much to say. Sorry I haven't updating in a while. Been working on other stuff. Thanks to SlowChemical77 for help with ideas and stuff. I'm kind of depressed, so this might be pretty dark. Or it might not and be exactly what I need to cheer me up. Whatever the case, here it is.  
  
Also, I apologize for this being so short, but I do have reasons. A, I just can't write anymore right now. B, it's an evil cliff-hanger. You have been warned  
  
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Clarice woke up somewhere around midnight hacking herself to death, or that's how it felt. Her chest was on fire and her throat was like raw sandpaper. Eventually she stopped, holding her chest hoping she wasn't going to just die now. Not feeling very tired, she propped herself up against her bed. All she could think about was Hannibal and what had juts happened. He had tried to open up to her and had pushed him away. What was wrong with her? At the moment, however, her thoughts wandered to her health. She was feeling worse by the second, having just about every symptom she could think of. Pounding headache, aching stomach, nausea. Speaking of nausea, Clarice started gagging. Running out of bed, she barely made it to the bathroom before she threw up the sandwich that Hannibal had gotten her earlier. Not sure she had the strength to walk back to her room at the moment, she flushed the toilet and leaned against it, resting. A couple of minutes later, Hannibal appeared in the door.  
  
"Clarice? Are you ok?" he asked, worriedly. He was by her side in an instant, feeling her forehead and her pulse.  
  
"No," Clarice replied, rolling her eyes.  
  
"Let me help you," Hannibal said, standing up.  
  
"I'd rather stay here, thank you," Clarice said icily.  
  
"I'm not letting you. I'll carry you if you really won't let me," Hannibal replied, exasperated.  
  
Clarice stared at him. "Don't you dare."  
  
Hannibal sighed and scooped her up in his arms much like he did after she was shot in Mason's barn, except this time she was awake and not happy about it.  
  
"Put me down!" Clarice screamed as loud as she could, which wasn't very loud. The trip from her bathroom to her bedroom shouldn'tv'e been that long but it was because Hannibal had to readjust his grip on Clarice twice because she was squirming so much. Eventually they got to her room and Hannibal set her down on her bed. He pulled the sheets over her. "I hate you," Clarice said.  
  
Hannibal merely sighed. "Being sick sure does bring out your more juvenile side, doesn't it?"  
  
"Just leave me alone, would you? Maybe even leave my house and never come back?" Clarice spat, rolling over again so she wasn't facing Hannibal.  
  
"I'm afraid I cannot. My car's snowed in," Hannibal replied. "But with the way you've been acting, I would if I could."  
  
"Well maybe you shouldn't break my heart," Clarice said quietly.  
  
"I'm sorry," Hannibal whispered back. He started giving Clarice a back massage, the covers separating his hands from the back of her pyjamas. "I never meant to hurt you."  
  
"Sure you didn't," Clarice snorted. "If you don't want to hurt my feelings more, maybe you could tell me why you've been so distant."  
  
Hannibal sighed again. "Like I said, we can't be together. I want you so much, Clarice. One might say I even need you. But we can't be together. That's what's wrong. I don't want to let you go again. I don't want to hurt you. I don't want to let you down like I did with Mischa," Hannibal said, his voice getting quieter and sadder as he went on.  
  
"If you really wanted me, then you wouldn't care if we got caught or not. It's better to have loved and lost to have never loved at all," Clarice replied, an edge still to her voice.  
  
"I don't want you to get hurt. One of the most important things in your life is your job. Asking you to come with me would be asking you to give it up. I can't do that," Hannibal said.  
  
"Why don't you try it sometime, eh? You might be surprised at what I'd do for you. Even if we did get caught, any amount of time we'd spend together, just the two of us in some foreign country would make my happy enough for my entire life. Besides, I was probably going to quit anyways. It's far to infuriating. Everything I do they jump on me for, even if it was exactly what they said to do, or if others ignore my, like in the fish market," Clarice said sadly.  
  
Hannibal sighed yet again and got up. "We can talk about this later when you're feeling better."  
  
"I've never known you to run away from your problems," Clarice called to him.  
  
Hannibal slammed the door shut behind him. 


	6. Chapter Six

Disclaimer: I own zilch. Thanks to SlowChemical77 for help with ideas. You're a lifesaver, girl.  
  
A/N: Once again, much thanks to SlowChemical77 with ideas. I can't do it without you.  
  
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Clarice woke up at three in the morning feeling angrier than she had been in ages. Every reproachful feeling that she had ever felt towards the doctor seemed to be radiating from her in a supernatural sort of energy. Just the thought of him in her house infuriated her further, so she decided to get him out. She got out of bed and threw on her warmest coat even though with all of the adrenaline rushing through her body she didn't think she would need it, the small amount of reason left in her demanded it. She managed to open the door quietly and close it just as softly, not wanting to wake up Doctor Lecter because she knew that he'd make her go back to bed.  
  
Clarice snuck down the stairs feeling like a criminal in her own house and began rooting through her closet for a shovel. It took longer than it should've because of the doctor, but she managed to find a good one. She grabbed her boots and tugged them on and then her warmest gloves. Opening her door, she headed out into the blizzard.  
  
Walking around to her driveway, Clarice realized that she had quite a job ahead of her. All she could see of her car and the doctors were large lumps of snow. Wondering if she might not be better just going back inside, she glanced back at her house. The window of the guest room that Doctor Lecter was staying in was staring at her as if taunting her to give up. Not wanting to be bested by a window, she started digging.  
  
A half hour later, Clarice started to feel faint. Not wanting to give up when she had barely even started, she sat down to look at what she'd done so far. Apparently the adrenaline was stronger than she had thought because from the street to about five feet in was completely cleared and the snow was about five feet deep. She had built herself into a kind of valley with huge walls of snow looming down on her. She judged that she had another five feet or so left and stood up, meaning to complete the job before all of her work was undone. However, that proved to be too much for her and she collapsed, instantly unconscious.  
  
Clarice woke up six hours later in her own bed. Not moving, she could feel that she had sprained her back and maybe her legs as well. She rolled over and groaned for several reasons. First, it caused a huge amount of pain. Second, Doctor Lecter was sitting in a chair next to her.  
  
"Wish you had let me die," Clarice muttered. She stopped from the rest of what she was going to say because her throat was like sandpaper.  
  
"I would never do that to you, Clarice. You know that," Doctor Lecter said. "And what were you doing out in the middle of a blizzard shovelling snow?" he said, his voice getting louder.  
  
"Getting you out of here," Clarice whispered. Since she couldn't yell, she pushed as much venom into her voice as possible. It wasn't difficult.  
  
"I'm not leaving until you're better," the doctor said.  
  
"Yes you are," Clarice replied. She tried to get up again to finish digging but was stopped by the doctor. "Let me go!" she yelled, completely destroying her voice.  
  
"No!" Doctor Lecter replied, pushing Clarice down. He lowered her head down to her face and spat, "I am not leaving this house until you are completely healed. You are not going to get better until you stay in this bed. Put two and two together, Clarice. If you continue to get out of bed, I'm never going to end up going."  
  
Clarice glared at him and lowered herself back into bed. "You are without a doubt the most annoying person I have ever met. Of course that's stretching the definition."  
  
The doctor furrowed his brow. "What definition?" he asked, for once confused.  
  
"Person," Clarice smirked.  
  
"You know, I'm doing all of this for you," Doctor Lecter replied. "It would serve you well to be grateful."  
  
"Grateful?" Clarice spat as if it was a dirty word. "You come into by house, tell me that you're in love with me and convince me to say that I love you too. As soon as you do, you instantly close up. You say that you want to protect me, but nothing's happened yet! You spent over ten years out of jail, even after Chesapeake. It's not likely something's going to happen!"  
  
Doctor Lecter stared at Clarice. "All I want is for you to be happy," he said quietly.  
  
"There are better ways, you know," Clarice replied angrily.  
  
"Could you at least listen to me?" the doctor asked.  
  
"No," Clarice spat.  
  
"You'll listen to me, whether you want to or not," Doctor Lecter roared, finally loosing his temper. He flipped Clarice onto her back and lowered his face only a few inches away from hers. He took out his harpy and pressed it against her throat to make sure she didn't move. "Don't you ever forget who you're dealing with."  
  
Clarice stared at him in shock. She never thought that Doctor Lecter would hold her against his harpy, even just to keep her still.  
  
"Answer me," he hissed.  
  
"I'll listen," Clarice whispered. She didn't think that he would hurt her. Emphasis on think.  
  
"I love you, Clarice, despite what you may think." The doctor stopped when Clarice snorted disbelievingly. "I do. I don't want you to get hurt. As for being grateful, I've saved your life countless times since I arrived here and if you hadn't climbed a tree in the middle of a blizzard, I wouldn'tv'e needed to help you in the first place, so really all of this is your fault."  
  
"If you hadn't been stalking me, I wouldn't have needed to climb the tree," Clarice replied. "And stop blaming everything on me."  
  
"Then stop causing everything," Doctor Lecter hissed.  
  
"I didn't do anything. I was trying to protect myself and my property. And as for the life saving part, I could've turned you into the F.B.I. also countless times. In fact, my cell phone is on the dresser. As soon as you let me go, I'm reporting you," Clarice spat.  
  
Doctor Lecter pushed the harpy into Clarice's throat very slightly, only enough to scare her. "Then I'm not letting you up."  
  
Clarice snorted again. "You're going to stay there forever then?"  
  
The doctor pushed the harpy in harder until a thin line of blood appeared. Clarice gasped, partly in pain and partly in surprise. She felt her eyes well up with tears even though she knew that this was what the doctor was looking for. "I hate you," she whispered.  
  
Doctor Lecter smirked because that was exactly what he wanted her to say. "That isn't what you thought when we were kissing."  
  
Clarice stared at him, literally stunned into silence. "What are you implying?" she yelled as loudly as she could without hurting her voice even more.  
  
"Oh, nothing," the doctor replied innocently.  
  
"I'm not a fucking whore!" Clarice yelled, ignoring her throat. "You're a fucking pervert! Get the fuck off me!"  
  
"Stop swearing, Clarice. Like I said before, it's rude," Doctor Lecter smirked.  
  
"I can't fucking believe you called me a fucking whore!" Clarice continued to yell.  
  
"I didn't say anything of the sort. All I said is that you apparently changed your mind," Doctor Lecter replied calmly.  
  
Clarice narrowed her eyes. "That isn't what you meant and you know it. You're just trying to get me pissed off enough so I'll be annoyed and be annoying enough that you'll have an excuse to kill me. Let me tell you something; you don't need one. You have my official permission."  
  
Doctor Lecter's look softened accidentally. "I'd never kill you," he whispered. He stopped pressing the harpy into her neck as hard as he had been and trailed it up and down Clarice's neck, sending shivers up and down her spine. She leaned up into Doctor Lecter by accident, not wanting to but her body forcing her too. Doctor Lecter's lips met her own in a passionate kiss until Clarice broke it.  
  
"I'm sorry," she whispered.  
  
The doctor smirked. "See? All you want is sex."  
  
Clarice stared at him, yet again shocked into silence. "Fuck you."  
  
"Now all you're doing is proving my point even more," Doctor Lecter leered, choosing to use a different definition than Clarice had meant.  
  
"That's not what I meant!" Clarice yelled. Doing the only thing she could think of as most of her body was pinned down by the doctor, she spat in his face. Unfortunately, this didn't have the desired effect.  
  
"That's just rude, Clarice. You know I hate the rude," Doctor Lecter said calm as can be. He held up his harpy so it glinted in the half light of the blizzard and put it back against Clarice's throat, pressing it in until she gasped with pain which took awhile. By then her neck had already started to bleed again.  
  
"You're a lying hypocrite," Clarice spat, trying to hold her hand up to her neck but not succeeding because the doctor was holding her down. "You said you wouldn't kill me. But hey, a long drawn out death is better than none at all."  
  
"I'm not going to kill you. You know I'm a doctor. I know how deep a cut need to be before one bleeds to death. I'm not going to cut one of your arteries either, not to worry," Doctor Lecter said. His voice was calm again and he had apparently regained his control. The hand holding the harpy wasn't shaking anymore and everything about him seemed to calm down. "Clarice, do you remember Chesapeake?" he asked.  
  
"How could I not?" Clarice snapped.  
  
"Because sometimes when something really upsetting happens, the person who it happened to forgets it. I can assume it wasn't all that upsetting then," Doctor Lecter replied.  
  
"What is your point, Doctor?" Clarice asked.  
  
"Well, the last time I kissed you against your will, it was because you were stuck in a refrigerator. This time it will be because I'm holding you against my harpy," the doctor answered and kissed Clarice. This time he forced his tongue into her mouth and moaned audibly. "I love you, Clarice," he whispered and went back to kissing her.  
  
"You're a fucking rapist," Clarice said the best she could with the doctor's tongue in her mouth. Almost instinctively, she bit down as hard as she could, causing the doctor to leap back with surprise. He fell ungracefully off of the end of the bed, giving Clarice a chance to get up. She did so and ran to her dresser as fast as she could, picking up her cell phone and flipping it up, praying that it had some batteries left. It didn't.  
  
"Clarice, get back into bed. I don't want you to get sicker," Doctor Lecter replied as though nothing had happened. He was standing behind Clarice and guiding her gently but firmly back to her bed. Clarice started kicking him, but the doctor ignored her and finally got her into bed. He pulled the covers up to Clarice's chin.  
  
"Let me go," Clarice spat through clenched teeth.  
  
Doctor Lecter considered. "No, I'd rather you didn't kill yourself," he replied and straddled her so she couldn't get out of bed. "Now get some rest."  
  
"You expect me to sleep like this?" Clarice said, staring in wonder at the doctor.  
  
"Exhaustion will eventually overcome you. Please, try to sleep," the doctor replied.  
  
"Sure, whatever," Clarice replied disgustedly.  
  
Doctor Lecter sighed and ignored Clarice.  
  
"Are you going to talk to me?" Clarice asked.  
  
Doctor Lecter didn't say anything.  
  
Clarice stared at him and then smirked, realizing this was the perfect time to get back at him. "Mischa dieing was your fault," she said, hoping she struck a nerve and wondering if that would get him to say anything.  
  
Immediately tears welled up in the doctor's eyes, but he still didn't say anything.  
  
"If you had taken better care of her, she'd still be here today," Clarice pressed on. "You didn't care about her then and you still don't. In fact, you hate her."  
  
"No I don't," Doctor Lecter whispered, unable to let that comment go.  
  
"If you loved her, you would've saved her," Clarice said. She knew that she was just being mean and was doing it on purpose. She knew that she would regret it later, but now it felt so good. Addicting, almost.  
  
"I loved her with all of my heart, Clarice. I still do," whispered the doctor.  
  
"If you love her with all of your heart, then how can you still love me?" Clarice replied. It was the wrong thing to say, and she knew it.  
  
"I don't know," Doctor Lecter spat. Having had enough, he kissed Clarice searingly on the mouth. "Since you want me to leave so much, I'll go," he said, and walked out of the room. Stopping in the doorway, he turned around and said, "Thank you for digging out the driveway. It will make it much easier for me." He then left, closing the door behind him. 


	7. Chapter Seven

Disclaimer: I own nothing.  
  
A/N: Thanks to SlowChemical77. Can't do it without you. I seriously can't. She gives me all of the ideas and all I do is write them. She's the brains behind this project. I am merely a writer.  
  
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Clarice woke up around noon feeling incredibly alone. Trying to figure out why, she rolled over again and saw that the doctor wasn't in his chair anymore. Even though she had convinced herself that she hated him, she knew it wasn't really true. Hoping that he hadn't actually left, she walked over to the window to see if his car was still there. He was, but only just barely. He had apparently been digging since she had fallen asleep and was almost done. She realized with a start that she actually didn't want him to go. Running down the stairs, she grabbed her coat and put on all of her winter clothes and ran outside to where he was.  
  
"Here you go," Doctor Lecter said, tossing Clarice a shovel.  
  
"I came out to tell you that you can stay if you want to!" Clarice yelled over the blizzard. "However, if you really want to leave, I'll gladly help!" Instantly she felt the anger boil up in her again. Wondering why she ever wanted him to stay, she began to dig along side him.  
  
"Clarice, if you want me to stay, that's more than ok with me, but will you please go inside?" the doctor asked, stopping shovelling.  
  
"No," Clarice replied and continued to dig.  
  
"I'm still not leaving until you get better," Doctor Lecter said and put his shovel down, going over to Clarice. "As a doctor, I'm prescribing bed rest."  
  
"Stop using everything against me. Just because you're a doctor doesn't mean that you're better than me," Clarice huffed as she dug, getting more and more out of breath with every shovel.  
  
"Clarice, please. You don't want to die," Doctor Lecter said and tried to take the shovel out of Clarice's grip. She wouldn't let go, so the doctor started to pull harder. Eventually she let go, sending them both flying them back into the snow. "Clarice!" Doctor Lecter sputtered.  
  
"I gave you the shovel," she smirked.  
  
Doctor Lecter got up and picked Clarice up in his arms. He began to carry her inside. Immediately, she started screaming and kicking.  
  
"LET ME GO!!! PUT ME DOWN!!!" she cried.  
  
"This is what you get for not doing as I say," the doctor said and carried Clarice up the stairs and to her room. He placed her down on the bed and sat on her again.  
  
"Get off," Clarice spat through clenched teeth.  
  
"Now, Clarice, since you refuse to cooperate, I'm giving you two options. You can either go to sleep of your own free will with me still on top of you so you don't get up again, or I will give you medicine to make you sleep. I do not think that you should choose the latter because it's likely to be painful as it is a shot," Doctor Lecter said.  
  
"No," Clarice replied.  
  
"Pick one, Clarice," the doctor said.  
  
"How about we talk?" Clarice said, not wanting a shot but refusing to give in.  
  
"And have you continually insult me? I think not," Doctor Lecter said.  
  
"I'm sorry about Mischa. I was out of line and I know it," Clarice said, trying to think of something.  
  
"Yes, you were, but just because you apologize doesn't make anything better but your conscience Please go to sleep," Doctor Lecter said.  
  
"Why do you even care?" Clarice asked.  
  
"We've been through this. Because I love you," the doctor replied, sighing.  
  
"If you loved me, then you should stop acting so indifferent half the time. You wouldn't have been about to go," Clarice snapped, sick of this excuse.  
  
"You shouldn't have told me so many times to leave if you wanted me to stay," the doctor replied.  
  
Clarice stopped. She knew that he was right and since she was so sick, her energy was quickly leaving her and she didn't have the energy to fight anymore. "Honestly, do you love me?"  
  
Doctor Lecter smiled sadly. "Clarice, I love you with all of my heart. How many times do you need me to say it?" he asked softly.  
  
"I need you to show it, not only say it. And not my only kissing me," Clarice sighed. She closed her eyes and leaned against her pillows. "I'm sick. I want you to stop bugging me."  
  
"I'm sorry, Clarice. I've sad so much on my mind lately, I've had a very short temper as well," Doctor Lecter said softly.  
  
"It's ok," Clarice replied, her eyes still closed. Now they were closed for a different reason. She didn't want him to see the tears forming in the corners of her eyes. To cry would be to loose their battle of wills and she couldn't let that happen. She was stronger than that, even when she was sick.  
  
"Go to sleep, Clarice," Doctor Lecter whispered. Clarice did just that.  
  
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Clarice didn't notice when she woke up this time because Doctor Lecter was asleep on top of her. Her immediate thought was Oh no, what happened last night, but she remembered why he was sitting on her and what must've happened. Actually, she was grateful because she actually felt better after having rested. She rolled him gently off of her and glanced at the clock. It was six in the morning. She had slept eighteen hours. Feeling extremely dirty after having not taken a shower in days, she got up and went into the bathroom off of her room to shower.  
  
Clarice closed the door quietly behind her and turned the hot water on. She slipped out of the pygamas she had been in and waited for the water to warm up. Thinking that it would be warm by now, she stepped into the shower. It was like being doused in ice water. Clarice screamed and immediately felt ridiculous for doing so. Deciding that she would rather be cold and clean, she quickly washed herself and then her hair. She quickly got out of the shower and wrapped a towel around herself. Having done so, she stepped out of the bathroom.  
  
"You really are all about sex, aren't you," Doctor Lecter asked quite amused from Clarice's bed.  
  
"You're awake," Clarice replied.  
  
"Very observant, Clarice," the doctor replied.  
  
"And it's you who is all about sex, falling asleep on top of me. You're not helping anything now; I can feel your eyes roaming all over my body," Clarice replied as she picked out clothes.  
  
"I fell asleep on you for your own good," Doctor Lecter replied.  
  
"That doesn't explain your eyes," Clarice said and went back into her bathroom with the clothes that she had decided to wear. She quickly changed into a pair of blue jeans, a blue shirt and a dark blue velvet scrunchie that she loved. After she was fully dressed she walked out of the bathroom again.  
  
"Very nice outfit," the doctor commented.  
  
"It reflects my mood," Clarice replied.  
  
"Clarice, I don't suppose you have any clothes I could borrow?" Doctor Lecter asked, feeling very unclean.  
  
"I actually do," Clarice said and went to her closet. She began to dig through it and eventually immerged with the dress he gave her at Chesapeake. "You can borrow this," Clarice replied and put it down on the bed.  
  
"Very amusing, Clarice," Doctor Lecter replied, smiling slightly.  
  
"I'm going to go get something to eat," Clarice said smiling and disappeared out into the hall. In about two minutes, the doctor heard loud swearing and went downstairs carefully. He saw Clarice lying on the kitchen floor and swearing.  
  
"What happened?" Doctor Lecter asked, instantly by her side.  
  
"Cheerios! Why are there Cheerios on the floor?" Clarice yelled.  
  
"Oh, remember? I told you that I spilled some the first day I was here," the doctor replied, smiling slightly.  
  
"No, actually I didn't remember," Clarice mumbled. She got up and carefully made her way to the table and sat down. "Since you made the mess, why don't you clean it up? Besides, it will be quite amusing."  
  
"I don't know where anything is," Doctor Lecter muttered, using the oldest excuse in the book.  
  
"The broom is next to the door," Clarice replied.  
  
"I don't know where your furniture is. I'll bump into stuff," the doctor said, almost whining.  
  
"That's what will make it so funny. Besides, think of this as a way to prove your love," Clarice said, now laughing.  
  
"Clarice, no," Doctor Lecter said and sat down next to Clarice at the table. "I refuse to pick up cheerios on your floor."  
  
"What happened to 'I'll do anything for you, Clarice'?" Clarice asked.  
  
"I didn't mean picking up Cheerios," the doctor muttered.  
  
"Then what did it mean?" Clarice asked.  
  
The doorbell rang.  
  
"It means not letting you answer the doorbell right now. Please, sit down Clarice," Doctor Lecter said, getting up after Clarice who had already started towards the door.  
  
"I'm not about to be ruse, especially in front of you. Besides, if it's who I think it is, she'll have a key so she's going to come in whether you like it or not. I suggest you hide," Clarice responded.  
  
"You shouldn't open the door. For all you know, it could be the F.B.I. demanding to search your house," the doctor replied.  
  
"They'd need a warrant. Besides, why would they want to search my house?" Clarice asked, still going towards the door.  
  
"It was just an example. But please, don't open the door," Doctor Lecter said.  
  
"I'm going to open it."  
  
"Clarice I-" the doctor started. He then stopped when he saw that Clarice wasn't going to listen. He started off quickly in the other direction looking for someplace he could hide for the moment.  
  
"Who is it?" Clarice called from the inside of the door.  
  
"Clarice? It's Crawford," a male voice answered from outside, yelling to be heard above the wind.  
  
"Oh! I'm sorry sir," Clarice replied, immediately opening the door to her superior. "May I inquire as to the occasion of your visit?" Clarice was trying to sound the best she could in front of her boss because the last thing she needed was to get fired.  
  
"When I called you before to tell you that Lecter was sighted in France and I wanted to make sure that you are alright," Crawford replied, coming inside quickly so Clarice could close the door.  
  
"Oh, I'm fine, if not rather busy at the moment. Do you want something quick to drink? I should really get back to what I was doing," Clarice responded, trying to figure out what he was talking about.  
  
"Water, since I doubt you have heat, would be excellent, but if you're too busy . . ." Crawford trailed off.  
  
"Oh, no, a quick glass will be fine. You can wait in the living room," Clarice replied, showing Crawford into the living room.  
  
"Thank you," Crawford said and sat down on the couch.  
  
"Not at all," Clarice replied and went into the kitchen. Looking around, she didn't see the doctor, but since it was dark, it would be easy enough to miss him. Clarice quickly poured a glass of water and went back to the living room. "Here you go," she said, handing the glass to Crawford.  
  
"Thank you," Crawford repeated. Clarice sat down opposite him and they sat in silence for a couple of minutes until Crawford noticed something. "Clarice, I think there's someone behind you," he said, putting the glass down and reaching for his gun.  
  
*Shit,* she thought, turning around. Sure enough, Doctor Lecter was standing behind her. "What are you doing here?" she yelled.  
  
"Merely making sure that everything was under control," Doctor Lecter said calmly.  
  
"It was until you came out!" Clarice spat.  
  
"Clarice, get out of the way," Crawford said and moved so he was between her and the doctor.  
  
Doctor Lecter took out his harpy and snapped it open. "So, Clarice. Your choice. Crawford, or myself." 


	8. Chapter Eight: The End

Disclaimer: I do not own anything. Absolutely nothing.  
  
A/N: This is the last chapter, so enjoy.  
  
I know it's short, but I just had to end it where it is and adding more either before that point or after it would've killed it.  
  
Courtney: *sighs* I'm updating. Happy? You better work on your story now . . .  
  
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Clarice stared at the two men. Both people she held very high, one she was in love with and one was her boss. She didn't want either of them killed. Doing the only thing she could think of, she stepped between the doctor and Crawford.  
  
"Clarice, move," Crawford said.  
  
Clarice didn't say anything, merely stared into Lecter's eyes, trying to figure out what he was thinking. "Do you love me?" she whispered.  
  
Doctor Lecter smiled sadly. "You know I do."  
  
Clarice could feel Crawford's eyes staring at her. "What has been going on?" he demanded.  
  
"Doctor Lecter saved my life, more than once I might add. He has been staying with me until I get better," Clarice responded, turning around to face her boss. "The phones were down so I couldn't have called the police or the F.B.I."  
  
"He could've killed you!" Crawford practically yelled.  
  
Clarice shook her head, tears welling up in her eyes. "No," she whispered.  
  
"And why the hell not?" Crawford demanded.  
  
Whispering, Clarice responded, "He loves me. You heard him."  
  
Crawford sighed and rubbed his forehead with the hand not holding the gun. "You believe him? Clarice, what's gotten into you?"  
  
Clarice dropped her gaze and stared at the floor. Before she could say anything, the doctor snorted, amused. "What is so funny?" she asked, turning around to face him.  
  
"He loves you, Clarice," Doctor Lecter replied, smiling. "I believe this ups the stakes, don't you think?"  
  
Clarice and Crawford both stared at him. "No he doesn't," Clarice said at the exact same time as Crawford said, "No I don't."  
  
The doctor smirked. "Crawford, don't lie. You know I hate the rude. Just admit it."  
  
Crawford stared at him and then looked at Clarice. "He's not lying," he stated quietly.  
  
Clarice stared at her employer. "What?"  
  
"I love you."  
  
Clarice continued to stare at him. Behind her, Doctor Lecter said, "Please hurry up, Clarice. I do not enjoy waiting like this."  
  
Clarice whipped around to face the doctor. "You want me to hurry up? I don't think that's an option! I have to pick between two people who love me, two people who I highly respect, neither of which I want to die! Any suggestions would be greatly appreciated!"  
  
"Who do you love?" Doctor Lecter replied softly.  
  
Clarice sat down heavily on the floor even though she knew that she was the only thing between the two men. She knew who she loved; that was the easy part. The hard part was figuring out what she was going to do. "I love you," she whispered to the air, not looking at either person. A couple of seconds later, she felt a hand on her back. Clarice looked up and saw Doctor Lecter looking into her eyes.  
  
"I love you," he whispered in her ear.  
  
Clarice was still for a moment and then nodded back. "I know. I love you too."  
  
Doctor Lecter smiled. "Who do you pick?"  
  
Throughout this exchange, Crawford had managed to keep quiet, but the urge to say something was just too big. "You can't possibly mean that."  
  
"Yes I can," she whispered and then stood up. "I love him."  
  
Crawford stared at her. "After what he did, how can you say that?"  
  
Clarice sighed. "It took me thirteen years to figure out that I loved him. You can't expect me to know why for at least another thirteen."  
  
Crawford stared and then turned to Doctor Lecter. "So, doctor, what do you think? Should do the right thing and kill you or should I let you and Clarice be happy together?"  
  
Doctor Lecter didn't say anything and turned to Clarice. "Should I do the right thing and kill him or let your boss live and endanger us?"  
  
Clarice glared at him. "I've done enough picking for a lifetime. Your choice."  
  
The two men looked at each other as if sizing the other up. "If I ever find out that you hurt Clarice in any way, I am going to change my mind. In the mean time, good luck," Crawford said and walked out, leaving Clarice and Doctor Lecter staring after him.  
  
"He left," Clarice stated dumbly.  
  
"Yes, he did," Doctor Lecter replied.  
  
"He's not going to get anybody else involved. He's just going to let us be," Clarice said.  
  
"Yes, he is," the doctor said and went over to Clarice's back and wrapped his arms around her waist.  
  
"I can't believe it," Clarice replied, still amazed.  
  
Doctor Lecter smiled and started kissing Clarice's neck. "Please, do so."  
  
Clarice smiled and turned around to face the doctor, his arms still enfolding her. "He's not going to come back, either."  
  
"No, he's not," Doctor Lecter replied and kissed Clarice. She soon fell into it and when they broke apart, she was only blushing slightly. "Clarice?"  
  
"Mmmm?" she answer, not able to compose real words at the moment.  
  
"I love you," he said for the second time that day.  
  
Clarice smiled and looked into his eyes. "I love you too."  
  
"Will you marry me?"  
  
"Yes." 


End file.
